Destined
by Elizabeth5
Summary: Destiny comes catching up to the explorers. M/R, V/N
1. Default Chapter

Destiny  
by Elizabeth Gilliland  
  
  
It wasn't the first time he had seen her, and it wouldn't be the last. She was in his   
blood. She was his other half. She was his soul mate. It had been that way seven hundred years   
before, and it would be that way for the rest of eternity. Fate, in all its cruelty, had brought  
them together only to tear them apart, but soon she would remember as he had, and soon they could   
be together.  
He watched fondly as she pushed through the dense underbrush of the jungle, panting and   
cursing at each and every turn. She had never been a very patient woman, and in a way, it was   
good to know that even her faults had been preserved within that soul of hers to be reincarnated   
when the time was right. And that time was now. Soon, he would reveal himself and all would   
fall into place. Then, they would fulfill their purpose...together.  
" The time has come, Marguerite." he promised in a low whisper. " Now we can be together   
again."  
  
  
" Of course, Roxton. Go ahead and barter off my necklace to appease those jungle men.   
It's not like I like jewels. It's not like that necklace meant anything to me. Just go ahead   
and give it away without so much as a thought to how I might feel." Marguerite fumed aloud to   
herself, not caring what she was trampling in her mad rampage through the jungle. " No one else   
does. Why should you be any different?"  
" Marguerite, wait!" she could hear Roxton calling from behind her.   
Anger festering inside of her, Marguerite was turning to head in the other direction when   
her sleeve caught on a thorn-covered tree branch. " Of course!" Marguerite cried, her irritation   
mounting by the moment. She looked up to the sky, addressing anyone who might be willing to hear  
her. " Like I need this right now!"  
Roxton spotted her and jogged over, out of breath and flushed as he approached her.   
" Marguerite, what do you think you're doing? You know how dangerous it is to wander through the   
jungle alone. Especially so close to sunset."  
" Funny," Marguerite replied smartly, " I didn't think you cared what happened to me."  
Roxton furrowed his brow. " What makes you say a stupid thing like that?"  
Marguerite rolled her eyes. The man was utterly hopeless. He didn't even understand what he  
had done wrong. " You gave away my necklace to those barbarians, Roxton. My very expensive   
necklace."  
It was Roxton's turn to roll his eyes. He should have known that this dramatic display was   
over something as trivial as that. " Marguerite, I did not give your necklace away. Those men   
were going to kill us. I had to do something to change their minds."  
Marguerite shook her head. " There are three things that are very sacred to women, John:   
diamonds, chocolate, and shoes. Out here on the plateau, I don't get chocolate and my shoes are   
ruined beyond repair, but at least I still had my diamonds. Emphasis on the had since you were   
feeling so darn charitable today."  
Roxton shook his head. " Marguerite, you still have plenty of diamonds. And are some stupid   
little stones worth more than your life?"  
Marguerite's eyes widened with outrage. " Stupid? Little? Did you see those diamonds,   
Roxton? They were huge and incredibly valuable."  
" Yes, well, the jungle men seemed to think so, too." Roxton returned. " Hence why we're   
still alive."  
Marguerite let out a breath of disgust. " You just don't get it, Roxton." Hastily, without   
thinking, she reached up to grab the branch that held her to the tree.  
The thorns pierced her flesh and sent rivers of blood streaming down her palm. Marguerite   
cried out in pain and instantly released the small twig. Roxton stared in horror at the dark   
contrast between the white of her skin and the dark crimson of the blood. " Marguerite, are you   
all right?" he inquired, his face concerned.  
If Marguerite had detected Roxton's obvious worry, she would have been touched, but as it was,  
she was far too angry with herself to notice. " Perfect. It certainly seems that Providence   
has it in for me today, doesn't it?"  
Roxton took her by the arm and gently turned her in the opposite direction. " Come on,   
Marguerite. Let's get you back to the tree house so someone can patch that up for you."  
Marguerite laughed bitterly. " Yes, well...with my luck, the thorns are poisoned and I'll   
end up dying some horribly wretched death during the night."  
Roxton shook his head in wonder. " You certainly do have a unique sense of whimsy, Miss   
Krux..."  
  
  
  
Summerlee gingerly patched up the wound on Marguerite's hand. " There you are, my dear."  
he said, smiling sweetly at her. " Good as new."  
" Thank you, Summerlee." Marguerite returned, favoring the older man with a smile. " It's   
nice to know that someone cares." She shot a scowl in Roxton's direction. He rolled his eyes   
and shook his head in response.  
Malone and Veronica emerged from the elevator. " We gathered those roots you needed,   
Challenger." Malone informed the older man, then spotted the bandages on Marguerite's hand.   
" What happened to you?"  
" Marguerite had a little run in with a branch." Roxton explained, giving an amused grin.   
Marguerite tossed her head. " A thorn covered branch, thank you very much. And it was quite   
severe. I was bleeding enough to feed a whole horde of mosquitoes."  
" Drama queen." Roxton accused. " It was a little scratch." He declined to mention how   
worried he had been about the 'little scratch', nor did he tell of how he had brought the branch   
along to have Challenger examine the thorns for any sign of poison.  
" On a happier note, we ran into Assai." Veronica informed them with a smile gracing her   
usually solemn face. " She's going to have a baby."  
" How wonderful!" Summerlee exclaimed. " There's nothing like the joy of a little child to   
bring happiness to a home."  
" Not to mention diapers and screaming." Marguerite returned wryly.  
" Why, Marguerite," Roxton drawled, " you make it sound as though you don't like children."  
" I like them well enough." Marguerite replied evenly. " As long as they leave me alone."  
Malone shook his head, face filled with mirth. " Spoken like a true future mother. I   
predict that you'll have a whole bundle of children."  
Marguerite couldn't help but smile in return. " That would be a pleasant enough irony,   
wouldn't it? Yes, well, as funny as that would be, I highly doubt it."  
" You never know, Marguerite." Veronica spoke up. " Sometimes, fate can surprise you."  
The elevator door opened suddenly, and a tall, dark-haired man stepped into the tree house.   
He smiled at all of them, and it seemed to most of them that there was something vaguely familiar  
about him, though none for the life of them could remember who he was.   
Roxton reached for his holster and eyed the stranger warily. " Can we help you?"  
The man grinned in return. " Roxton, good to see you." His eyes landed upon Marguerite, and   
she felt a chill run through her spine. " Marguerite." And before anyone could think to say or   
do anything, he crossed the room in one swift motion and kissed her passionately on the lips.  
  
  
  
For a moment, the others looked on in stunned silence, and then Roxton took action. He   
angrily grabbed the stranger's arm and pushed him backward. " Hey!" he cried, for lack of   
anything better to say, and squarely placed himself between the dark stranger and Marguerite.  
To his surprise, the stranger merely laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. " John   
Roxton-- still serving as Marguerite's protector, I see." Roxton frowned, puzzled. Strange-- had  
he heard that laugh somewhere before?   
Veronica placed herself beside Roxton, preparing herself for combat. " Who are you?" she   
asked, her voice guarded.  
The man let out a whoop of joy and pulled Veronica into his embrace, then quickly swung her   
around. The blonde woman was visibly stunned when he set her down again. " Veronica, is that   
really you? I should have known that you'd still be the warrior. It was always in your blood."   
He gave her a quick look-over. " And what is this ridiculous costume that they have you wearing?  
Never mind-- I'll hear the whole story later, I'm sure." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.   
" Gosh, I've missed you."  
It was Malone's turn to intervene. " Strange how you seem to remember everyone but no one   
can remember you."  
The stranger turned and gave him a puzzled look. " Well, I remember almost everyone...but   
not you. You must be new to the group."  
Malone furrowed his brow. " New to the group? What are you talking about? I've been with   
these people for two years. You just got here."  
The stranger gave him a placating smile. " All in due time, my friend. Just give me a   
moment to take this all in. I can't believe that we're all together again." He looked around the   
room. " Roxton, Challenger, Arthur, Veronica..." he swallowed heavily, "...my Marguerite."  
Roxton was about to say something to that, but Challenger placed a warning hand on his arm   
and inquired, " If you don't mind my asking, who are you? And what do you mean by all of us   
being together again when none of us can seem to remember who you are?"  
The stranger smiled. " Well, it's a bit confusing and overwhelming, but I think that you'll   
all come to remember the truth, as I have. My name is Warren Price. And there is a reason that   
all of you were kept together. You see, Marguerite is the Chosen One, the special spirit, and we   
have all been selected as her guardians in order to help her fulfill her destiny."  
Marguerite tensed and exchanged a glance with Roxton. He, too, seemed to remember how she   
had been called the Chosen One before. She wondered if it was coincidence or if her destiny was   
finally catching up to her.  
" Seven hundred years ago, Marguerite was the queen of a kingdom called Spheria, and I was   
her husband." Warren continued, and Marguerite could not help but remember how familiar it had   
felt when he had kissed her in the tree house. " Arthur was her father, Challenger was her   
advisor, Roxton was her chief protector, and Veronica was one of her guards and was also Roxton's  
wife." Veronica and Roxton both exchanged a puzzled glance, and Malone tensed at the statement.   
" We were the five closest people to Marguerite, and so she selected us as her guardians.   
" It was Marguerite's destiny and calling as the Chosen One to bring peace and prosperity to   
Spheria and to be the greatest ruler that ever lived. For a while, it seemed as though she would   
accomplish just that." Warren was silent for a moment. " But she was betrayed. By our son,   
Phillip."  
" That would explain Marguerite's wariness toward children." Malone muttered to Veronica.  
" Though Marguerite did everything that she could to prevent it, the kingdom was eventually   
taken over. As a last hope for Spheria, our spirits were preserved until a later day to return to   
Spheria and to restore it to all of its glory. Seven hundred years have passed, and finally,   
fate has seen fit to bring us all together again." Warren said, eyes shining with fire. " For   
some reason, I was separated from the rest of you, but it is no coincidence that the five of you   
are all here together. It is our destiny to return and to rule Spheria as it once was."  
Everyone was silent, overwhelmed by this story and all that it implied. Challenger was the   
first to speak. " As a man of science, I find this whole thing very difficult to believe. If   
there were some way that you could prove to us..."  
Warren smiled. " You always were the logical thinker, Challenger. But I'm afraid that   
there's no real physical proof that I can give. Your souls are the same, but you've lived   
different lives, had different experiences. The best I can hope to do is to try to get you to   
remember."  
" This whole thing sounds a little absurd, you have to admit." Roxton spoke up. " Why are   
you the only one that can remember? And why is Malone with us if it was only supposed to be the   
six of us that were working together on this?"  
" I don't know." Warren replied simply. " At first, I didn't remember, either. I lived a   
normal life, just as you do. But then memories began to come back. They came in bits and pieces,  
in dreams at first, but then I began to remember large chunks of the life that I lived before.   
I thought that I was imagining the whole thing until I saw an article in the newspaper with four   
of the five people that I had been dreaming about-- Roxton, Marguerite, Arthur, and Challenger--   
saying that you were coming to this plateau on some sort of adventure. So I came after you,   
trying to find you. I've been searching for quite some time." He ran his gaze over all of them   
once more, cherishing the picture they made as though he was still in disbelief that he had found   
them. " Now that I've returned, everything should fall into place. The rest of you will soon   
remember...and then our destinies can be fulfilled."   
  
  
  
It was night-time. A cool breeze was rustling through the tree house, carrying with it   
the familiar smells of the jungle. It was darker than most nights; the moon was carefully tucked   
away behind some heavy clouds, and the tree house produced the only light that could be seen for   
miles.   
Roxton leaned forward on his elbows and looked grimly at his companions. " I don't like   
him." he said finally. " There's something that I just don't trust about the man."  
Warren had retired to bed for the night, leaving the other adventurers to discuss the heavy   
load that he had dropped on them earlier that afternoon.   
" His story does seem a little fantastic." Challenger agreed. " To think that we could   
really be the reincarnated spirits of a royal court, preserved to bring about justice after all   
these years...it's a little overwhelming."  
" Why would anyone make up a story like that, though?" Summerlee wondered. " It is rather   
strange, I agree, but he seemed so certain when he told it. Perhaps a little too certain to have   
just made it all up."  
" Weirder things have happened, Summerlee." Roxton pointed out. " The whole thing just   
doesn't ring true. Why is he the only one that remembers about all of this? And besides, if   
Veronica and I were really married, wouldn't we remember at least something about that? Some   
feeling, some trace of our former life? And Marguerite certainly didn't recognize Warren, though   
he was supposedly the man that she was married to--"  
Marguerite looked up, embarrassed. " Actually, when he kissed me it felt...familiar. Almost   
as if it had happened before." She was pained to say it and knew that Roxton was probably pained   
to hear it, but she couldn't lie. What if Warren was telling the truth and it really was her   
destiny to be here with all of these people? What did that mean?  
She looked up to find Roxton studying her intently and quickly looked away. *What does it   
matter to you, anyway?* she thought, but knew at the same time that it did matter and that she   
was afraid to think of what Roxton was feeling right now.   
" Well, at least all of you were mentioned, whether it was a story or not." Malone spoke up.   
" I'm just the wild card out, I suppose."  
Marguerite suspected that the real reason he was upset was because Warren had said that   
Veronica and Roxton were married before, but she kindly neglected to point that out. It was late   
and she was tired and she didn't really want to own up to the fact that she had been jealous   
when Warren said it, too.  
" Well, we might as well find out for ourselves if this is true, or not." Marguerite asserted.  
" If it's all the rantings of a crazed lunatic, then at least it was an adventure. And if we   
really are some chosen group of people..."   
But she didn't know what would happen then. Would she become queen of Spheria? Would she and   
Warren be married? Would she lose Roxton? It was something she didn't really want to think   
about at the moment...or ever, if it could be helped.  
" I suggest that we get some sleep." Summerlee said softly. " We have a long day ahead of   
us."  
  
  
  
Marguerite stopped in her doorway, surprised to see Warren standing in her bedroom. His   
back was turned to her, and she couldn't help but reflect on what an attractive man he was. He   
was tall and broad shouldered, with short dark hair and reflective gray eyes. He wasn't nearly   
so rugged as Roxton, but there was something about him...  
She cleared her throat and stepped into the room. " Can I help you with something?"  
Warren turned, startled at first, and then gave her a guilty smile. " Actually, I was hoping   
to speak with you. I figured that if anyone would remember me, it would be you."  
He took a step closer to her, and unexpectedly, her heart began to race. Who was this man   
that could stir such emotions in her after she had only just met him? She looked at him   
doubtfully, not certain of how she felt.  
" Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Price." Marguerite said coolly. " But I don't remember you.   
Not as well as you remember me, anyhow."  
Warren grinned at this. " That's my girl. Always so cautious, always so proud. I've missed  
you, Marguerite." He swallowed at the emotions that surfaced within him.   
Marguerite was unexpectedly touched by this. She searched for something to change the   
subject. "So, what is it that I'm supposed to remember, anyway?"  
" You were the first thing I remembered." Warren informed her, advancing closer to her. She   
didn't move back. " I had these dreams...and your face haunted me. It was the most beautiful   
thing that I had ever seen." He reached up and gingerly stroked her cheek with one hand. " How  
I've longed to touch that sweet face once more..."  
Roxton cleared his throat from the doorway. Marguerite turned and quickly stepped away from   
her visitor, a gesture that was not lost on Warren. " Roxton," she said guiltily, wondering how   
long he had been there, " what are you doing here?"  
" I could ask you the same question." Roxton replied, coldly glaring at Warren. " It's   
getting late, don't you think?"  
Warren reluctantly began to move away from Marguerite. " Yes, of course. Good night   
Roxton... Marguerite."  
Roxton waited until Warren had left the room and then gave Marguerite a long, searching look   
before he turned and retreated to his own quarters.  
  
  
  
Breakfast was unusually tense the following morning. Warren was among them now, and with  
him he had brought awkwardness and self-consciousness to the small band of explorers. The day   
before, Roxton would have thought nothing of discussing hunting tactics with Veronica or of   
teasing Marguerite about her cooking. But knowing that Veronica had once been his wife made   
addressing her suddenly very embarrassing. Not to mention speaking to Marguerite. Warren had   
been watching him carefully since the night before, and Roxton could very easily guess why.  
Marguerite was one of the only ones still attempting to make conversation, but Roxton could   
tell that it was a cover for the anxiety that she was feeling. He could sympathize with her.   
It made him sick to his stomach every time Warren looked at her-- which was often enough-- and it  
made him even sicker to think of the way that Warren's hand had caressed Marguerite's face the   
night before. Had he done that when they were married? Had they kissed? Had they made love?  
Of course, Roxton knew they had, but the thought still disturbed him more than he cared to   
admit. There was something between him and Marguerite, he knew, but did that matter now? Warren,   
her supposed husband, had returned. They were destined to be together-- weren't they?   
Discouraged by the thought, Roxton returned his attention once more to the conversation.  
Warren turned to Marguerite and with shining eyes inquired, " Do you dance, Marguerite?"  
Marguerite looked at him in surprise. " Why do you ask?"  
" You were an extraordinary dancer in the last life." Warren informed her. " I was just   
wondering if that was another lovely attribute that you had retained."  
Roxton rolled his eyes.  
" I have been known to dance now and then," Marguerite replied coyly, " when the opportunity  
presents itself." She wondered if Roxton remembered that summer night when they had been all   
alone and the phonograph had been obliging enough to play a Schumann piece for them to enjoy...  
" Well," Warren said smoothly, " I'll have to see to it that the opportunity presents itself  
rather soon."  
Roxton cleared his throat hastily. " I don't know about that, Warren. Marguerite isn't as   
light on her feet as she claims to be."  
Warren narrowed his eyes and studied Roxton suspiciously. " Have the two of you danced   
before?"  
Marguerite was far too outraged by Roxton's comment to notice what Warren was implying.   
" Trodged about the room is more like it. Lord Roxton has two left feet."  
" Yes, well-- you didn't seem to mind at the time." Roxton reminded her. " In fact, if I   
remember correctly, you complimented me on my grace and skill."  
" Two words you've never heard before, I'm sure." Marguerite spat contemptuously. " Besides,  
we're all entitled to our little white lies every now and then, aren't we--" she suddenly felt   
very dizzy, "--John."  
Suddenly, she was in what appeared to be a ballroom of some sort of Medieval castle. The   
room was crowded with hordes of people wearing all sorts of lavish costumes, and sweet, beautiful  
music filtered through the night.  
In the middle of the room, Marguerite could see herself dancing with Warren. A   
breathtakingly stunning crown was upon her head, and the rest of the room seemed lost to the two   
of them. Even from the distance, he could see the deep love reflecting in his eyes...  
And then she was back in the tree house. She gasped and looked around, stunned by what she   
had seen.   
Roxton and Warren were both at her side, steadying her. " Marguerite," Roxton inquired,   
voice concerned, " are you all right?"  
Marguerite blinked and shook her head, trying to regain a sense of her bearings. " I'm fine,  
I just..." She looked over at Warren in wonder. " I remember."  
  
  
Marguerite stared at the water of the lake, transfixed by its cool, clear water. Her   
mind was in tumult. On one hand, it was thrilling to finally know of her destiny, and yet at   
the same time she was painfully aware that Roxton was not part of that destiny. At least, not   
the part that she had always imagined he would be.  
" Marguerite." came a soft voice from behind her. She turned to see Warren standing there,   
holding a hand-picked bouquet. The sight unexpectedly touched her heart. " Do you mind if I   
join you?"  
" Be my guest." Marguerite said, motioning for him to sit beside her. He did so, and she was  
suddenly very aware of his eyes upon her. " Don't do that."  
Warren frowned a bit. " Do what?"  
" Don't look at me like that." Marguerite said softly. " It makes me nervous."  
Warren smiled. " How can I help but stare at such beauty?"  
Marguerite laughed. " Well, it's been a good while since anyone's fed me a line like that."  
Warren laughed with her, and then was silent for a long moment. " It isn't, you know." he   
said after a moment. Seeing the confused look on her face, he added, " A line, I mean. It   
isn't a line. You're the most exquisite thing I've ever seen."  
And before Marguerite could even think to react, he was kissing her, softly at first, and   
then more intensely. Marguerite felt her mind spinning out of control. Her heart was beating   
to the point of nearly bursting out of her chest.   
She pulled back abruptly and turned her face away. " Warren, I can't."  
Warren took a moment to catch his breath. He was trembling, obviously as affected by the   
intensity of the kiss as she had been. He stared at her for a long moment. " Is it because of   
Roxton?"  
Marguerite's eyes widened incredulously. " What? What are you talking about?"   
But she couldn't fool him. He had known her too long, had loved her too long. " Marguerite,  
you have to know that your feelings for Roxton are only temporary. They're something created by   
this life to sustain you until I found you again."   
Marguerite shook her head. " I don't think it's that simple, Warren."  
Warren was silent for a long moment. " Does he love you? Can he possibly love you as I do?"  
Marguerite frowned, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. She wasn't really sure of how   
Roxton felt about her. She knew that she loved him, though she had fought the sentiment long   
enough, but she wasn't sure of how he felt about her. His love had been every day implied, but   
never spoken. As far as she knew, she was just some temporary fling for him. Perhaps Warren was  
right. Maybe Roxton's feelings for her were only created to keep her sustained until she found   
Warren again. And now that she had found Warren, maybe Roxton would realize that he was truly   
meant to be with Veronica.  
But she couldn't believe that. It was too painful to even comprehend. She had to believe   
that he loved her, had to believe that this was more than just some foolish whimsy. Still, she   
couldn't be certain. Roxton and Veronica had grown rather close as of late...  
Warren saw the confusion in her eyes. " Marguerite, come with me to Spheria. There, at our   
home, you'll remember everything, not just bits and pieces, and we'll be able to start our new   
life together and fulfill our destinies."  
" I don't know." Marguerite said softly. " I'm going to have to think about it, Warren."  
Warren nodded, accepting this. " Take all the time you need, my love." He gently took her   
palm in his own and placed it to his lips. " I'll wait for you forever, if I have to."  
Marguerite nodded numbly and rose to her feet, her mind in more chaos than it had been when   
she had first arrived at the tranquil waters.  
  
  
Roxton slowly advanced through the ballroom, Veronica on his arm. She was particularly   
beautiful that night, with her golden hair swept upward and her warrior's uniform replaced with a  
stunning lavender gown. She was one of the strongest, fiercest warriors that he knew, and it was  
odd to see her so relaxed and dignified.   
She was a wonderful dance partner, easily slipping into the music and allowing it to control   
her movements and rhythm. He could feel the envy of the other men as they circled about the   
dance floor, though she seemed blissfully unaware of it. She wasn't the type to notice that   
other men were watching. Her focus was always centered entirely on him.  
" What are you thinking of?" she inquired softly, smiling up at him.  
" Only of how beautiful you are." he said quickly. " And of how lucky I am to have such   
divinity in my presence."  
She was glowing now, smiling up at him invitingly, and he had never been one to resist such   
enticements...  
Roxton awoke with a start, fazed by the dream. Or was it a memory? He wasn't really certain.  
" Roxton."  
Roxton looked up at the doorway to see the dark sillouhette of a woman. He recognized the   
voice to be that of Veronica. He sat up a bit and tried to cover himself with his blanket,   
suddenly very aware of his bare chest. " Veronica-- what are you doing in here? Is something   
wrong?"  
Veronica advanced into the room, her light nightgown billowing around her. She hesitated,   
then came closer to his bed. It wasn't like her to be so shy and hesitant, but obviously she was  
feeling the same embarrassment that he did. " Roxton, I needed to talk to you. I think I   
remember something from the past. I...had a dream about it."  
Roxton stared at her in wonder. " So did I. Was your dream in a ballroom?"  
" No, it was in a bedroom." Veronica said, and blushed as the whole implication of what she   
had said reached him. He felt his own cheeks darkening.  
" Oh." he stammered, and tried not to conjure any mental pictures of that. " What do you   
think this means?"  
" I'm not sure." Veronica said truthfully, seating herself on the corner of Roxton's bed.   
" Only that Warren was right and that at one time we were married." She looked at the ground and   
was silent for a long moment. " Roxton, maybe it isn't a coincidence that you and I both had   
dreams tonight, right now. Maybe we're supposed to remember these things because...we're   
supposed to be together."  
Roxton would be lying if he said that he hadn't ever found Veronica attractive. She was a   
beautiful woman and was admirably agile and clever, as well. But he had never really thought of   
her in this light. He had been too busy falling in love with Marguerite, but now it seemed that   
she was being pulled from his grasp. The thought of how she had looked at Warren after seeing   
her vision...  
He shook his head. If Marguerite could forget about him so easily, than he certainly wasn't   
going to sit around and mope for her. " Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out." He   
replied, and leaned in to kiss her. She readily complied.  
There was a startled gasp. Roxton pulled back to see Marguerite standing in the doorway,   
her face shocked and hurt. For a long moment, she could merely stare at them. Roxton felt as   
though the wind had been knocked out of him.  
" Marguerite, I--" But she didn't bother to listen. She turned and ran.  
Roxton was about to get up and go after her when Veronica placed a hand on his chest.   
" Roxton, give her some time. She'll learn to accept it. We all will."  
But Roxton wasn't sure whether he wanted to accept it or not. He had never been more   
confused in his life.  
  
  
Marguerite slipped into the room where Warren was sleeping and gently but firmly shook   
his shoulder. " Warren," she whispered, then more insistantly repeated, " Warren!"  
Warren stirred and looked up at her in surprise. " Marguerite-- what is it? You look as if   
you've seen a ghost."  
" Never mind that." Marguerite snapped, tossing her head a bit. " I'm ready to go with you   
to Spheria." She paused and swallowed heavily. "And I'm ready to love you again."  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  



	2. Fate is Cruel

Destiny  
Part 2  
By Elizabeth Gilliland  
  
Veronica wandered back into her room and eased into her bed, perplexed by her actions   
that night. Her dream of being with Roxton had stirred memories and emotions that had been   
forgotten for over seven hundred years. Though she had always cared for Roxton as a friend,   
her feelings for him had never run deeper than that. But her dream had ignited a passion and   
desire that had been burried long before, and she remembered what it had been like to love John   
Roxton...and it wasn't just something that she could easily forget.  
*What will Malone think*? she wondered fleetingly, then cursed herself for the thought. She   
cared for Malone a great deal, but...heck, who was she kidding? She loved Malone, try as she   
might to stop. It was difficult to love anyone so powerfully, so deeply after all the hurt that   
she had suffered. But if being with Roxton was her fate, what was the point in holding on to   
Malone any longer, only to let him go? She wouldn't stand losing someone she loved again, not   
after what had happened with her parents. She wouldn't-- couldn't-- go through that again.  
The floor board creaked and Veronica looked up to see a bare-chested Malone standing in the   
doorway. Involuntarily, she felt a shiver of anticipation run through her, despite her newfound   
resolution to stop loving him.  
" Malone, what is it?" she inquired, growing concerned as she noticed the grim look on his   
face.  
" It's Marguerite." Malone informed her. " She's gone."  
  
  
  
Warren stopped beside a massive, firm tree and dropped his pack. " Why don't we rest   
here a moment?" he suggested. " Catch our breath."  
  
Marguerite sighed with relief and dropped her own pack. " No arguments here. My legs are   
ready to collapse on me." She leaned up against the tree and sank to the forest floor, silently   
enjoying the unusually peaceful afternoon on the plateau.  
" What made you change your mind?" Warren asked finally. They had conversed about various   
topics during their journey, but until now, they had both avoided the subject of Marguerite's   
sudden change of heart.  
Marguerite sighed and looked away. " Well, there were a lot of reasons...the food, for one.   
Try as he might, Challenger just can't cook worth a thing. And I've always wanted to be a queen...  
well, except for that time when I almost was made a queen against my will, but that's a different   
story--"  
  
" It was Roxton, wasn't it?" Warren prodded gently.  
Marguerite gave a short, bitter laugh. " Am I that transparent?"  
  
Warren gave her a sad smile. " You are to me."  
Marguerite met his gaze and could feel   
his longing for her. It was nice, flattering, to be wanted that badly. She didn't exactly love   
him, but she could learn to. And maybe her memory of the previous life would return and she   
would realize that it was him that she truly loved all along.  
" Well," Marguerite spoke up, mind resolved, " you don't have to worry about Roxton anymore.   
He's made his choice, and so have I." She could tell that he was still doubtful, and-- truth be   
told-- she was, too. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. " So, how long were we   
married?"  
  
The suspicion faded from Warren's eyes and he smiled, slipping into memories. " Nineteen   
wonderful years."  
  
Marguerite's eyes widened. " No kidding. We must have been children when were got married."  
  
" Practically." Warren admitted. " You were fourteen, I was nineteen." Seeing the shock on   
her face, he added, " It was more common back then."  
  
Marguerite leaned forward and hugged her knees. " That's a long time. We must have really   
loved each other."  
" We did." Warren confirmed, meeting her gaze. " I'm willing to do anything-- anything to   
get that back again."  
  
Marguerite was about to reply when she found that she was suddenly in a darkened chapel, lit   
only by candles. She could see a younger version of herself sitting before the altar, hugging   
her knees, trembling. A teenager boy that had the same coloring and features as Warren was   
sitting next to her, looking at her with the utmost compassion.   
" My mother is dead." the younger Marguerite informed him, eyes glittering with unshed tears.  
" I know." Warren said gently.  
Marguerite stared blankly ahead as tears began to silently roll down her cheeks. " I suppose  
that means I'm queen now."  
  
" I suppose so." Warren returned.  
Marguerite couldn't hold it in any longer. She began to sob. " I'm so scared, Warren."  
  
Silently, Warren took her into his arms and held her for a long moment, allowing her to just   
cry. Gently, he kissed the top of her dark head. " I'll take care of her, Marguerite. I'll take  
care of you forever."  
  
Marguerite gasped. She was back in the jungle, and Warren was at her side, a concerned look   
on his darkly handsome face. " Are you all right?"  
  
Marguerite smiled at him, gratified by his love for her, both in the past and present. " You  
said forever." she reminded him, then lightly brushed her lips against his own.  
Warren did not reply, just returned the kiss.  
  
  
" Hurry up!" Roxton snapped at Summerlee, who was slowing them down once again.   
"Marguerite could be in trouble."  
  
Challenger was quick to come to Summerlee's defense. " Relax, Roxton. Marguerite probably   
isn't in any immediate danger. It seems as though she left of her own free accord."  
  
That was what was bothering Roxton the most. Still, it wasn't Summerlee's fault. " I'm   
sorry, Summerlee. It's just that Marguerite left because of me. If anything happens to her..."  
  
" Roxton," Veronica spoke up, " it isn't your fault that she left. It was her own decision."  
" Yes, it is." Roxton countered. " She never would have run off so rashly if she hadn't   
seen us kissing."  
  
Malone stopped dead in his tracks. " What?"  
Roxton wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now. " You heard what I said. I'm sorry,   
Malone, but there's not really time to explain right now--"  
  
Malone folded his arms stubbornly. " So make time."  
  
Veronica took a step toward him. " Ned, you heard Warren. If what he said is true, then   
Roxton and I are supposed to be together." Seeing the dismay on his face, she added, " You can't   
fight fate, Malone. Believe me-- I've tried."  
  
Malone was silent for a moment, and then he abruptly lunged toward Roxton and punched him   
squarely in the jaw.  
Roxton fell back a step and looked at Malone in surprise. Gingerly, he reached up and felt   
his jaw. "Feel better?"  
  
Surprised by Roxton's reaction, Malone cooled down a bit and replied, " Yeah, actually, I do."  
" Good." Roxton said, grabbing his hat, which had fallen to the forest floor. " Now, let's   
go find Marguerite."  
  
  
The night was silent, still. Roxton stealthily made his way out of the castle, slipping   
through the shadows, warily watching for any sign of life. His heart was pounding in his chest.   
In the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong, and yet he couldn't seem to stop himself.  
Finally, being even more cautious now to make sure that no one was watching, he darted into   
the stables and shut the door behind him.  
She was already there, waiting for him. A vision of loveliness if ever there was one. The   
love of his life. His other half. His angel.  
Marguerite.  
" I thought you weren't going to come." she said softly, stepping closer to him and running   
her fingers over his arm as if to make sure that he was really there. He felt electrified by the   
touch.  
" And miss even a moment with you?" Roxton returned, barely managing to keep in the emotion   
that was surging through him. " Never."  
  
He kissed her soundly, firmly, with more passion than he had ever felt with Veronica. It was   
uncanny how much he desired this woman, and yet...it was more than that. Much more. This wasn't   
just some physical escapade that he was on. He was in love with this woman, though Heaven only   
knew how he had tried to resist her. He loved Veronica, yes, but he was not in love with her.   
Marguerite had awakened feelings inside of him that he never knew were possible, had set his mind  
and body and heart aflame. And as much as honor forbade him, as much as guilt for betraying his   
wife and good friend tried to dissuade him from being with her, he just couldn't leave. She was   
his destiny.  
Roxton awoke with a start, eyes widening as the whole impact of his dream hit himl. Fate   
wasn't working against him. Seven hundred years before, he and Marguerite had found each other,   
and now they were meant to be together, still. He actually felt tears of relief in his eyes. She   
wasn't gone from him forever.  
Beside him in the tent, Malone stirred. " Roxton, are you awake?"  
  
Roxton pondered warily for a moment whether or not he should answer. He didn't especially   
feel like getting punched again. " Yes," he finally said, knowing he deserved whatever wrath   
Malone inflicted on him, " I'm awake."  
Malone was silent for a long moment. " I'm sorry for punching you."  
  
Roxton smiled into the darkness. " No, Malone. It's me who should be sorry. I probably   
would have done the same thing in your shoes." He shook his head ruefully. " But you don't have   
to worry about that every happening again. It was a big mistake."  
" Mistake?" Veronica repeated from the other side of Roxton. He could hear the hurt in her   
voice. " It wasn't a mistake, Roxton. You heard Warren-- we were meant to be together. It's   
fate."  
  
" No, it isn't," Roxton insisted. " I don't love you, and I'm convinced that I never really   
did."  
Veronica was silent for a long moment. " What are you talking about, Roxton?"  
  
Roxton proceeded to tell her about the dream-- the secret night rendesvous, the feelings it   
conjurred.  
Veronica had sat up while he was speaking, and when he was finished, she reached out and   
slapped him. " How dare you?"  
Roxton looked at her in surprise. This really wasn't his day. " What does it matter now? It'  
s not like you're in love with me."  
  
There were tears in her wide, blue eyes. " No, but I was-- and you betrayed me. And now you   
don't even seem to care."  
  
She rose hastily to her feet and hurried out of the tent. Roxton started to get up to go   
after her, but Malone beat him to the punch. " It's all right, Roxton." he said, grabbing his   
gun in case they ran into trouble. " I'll take care of it."  
  
  
  
Malone found Veronica sitting on the bank of a stream, idly pulling a leaf apart and   
throwing its remains into the water. She sighed as Malone approached. " Think I made a big   
enough fool of myself back there?" she inquired bitterly.  
Malone seated himself next to her and turned his gaze to the stream. " You didn't make a   
fool of yourself."  
  
She shook her head. " I don't know why I reacted that way. I wanted to hear that it was a   
mistake and that Roxton and I weren't really meant to be together, but when I did, I got angry.   
I don't understand."  
  
But Malone did. " Because you're stubborn. And once you set your mind on something, it's   
hard to get you to change it again." he informed her, voice tinged with admiration. " What I   
don't understand is why you set such stock on the whole idea of destiny and fate."  
  
Veronica lowered her gaze. " When I was a very young girl, a Zanga priestess told me that I   
was destined to be alone. I didn't believe her, just ignored the whole thing-- and then I lost   
my parents." She paused, battling back tears. " I guess I just thought that if I had done   
something, if I had paid more attention..."  
  
" It isn't your fault that your parents disappeared." Malone said gently. " And besides--   
you aren't destined to be alone. You have me."  
  
Veronica smiled at him, eyes glittering with tears. " Thank you." She gasped as she   
suddenly slipped away. She was in a thatched roof cottage, polishing her swords. There was a   
rough, no-nonsense look about her, and she was clad in the armor of a warrior.  
The door opened and a familiar brown haired, blue eyed man entered the room. Veronica rose   
rapidly to her feet, nearly topping her chair to the ground.  
" Malone," she hissed, " what are you doing here? John is going to be back any minute."  
Malone swallowed heavily. He was drenched from the heavy rain pounding outside, and he   
looked as though he felt as forlorn as he appeared. " Veronica, please-- you have to listen to   
me. I'm in love with you."  
Veronica turned away, torn between being outraged and elated. " Malone, we've discussed this   
before. I'm married to Roxton. I can't possibly--"  
  
" But you don't love him." Malone protested. " Veronica, please-- can you look me in the   
eyes and tell me you don't love me?"  
Veronica met his gaze, resignation pushing her forward. She had to do this-- for both their   
sakes. " I don't love you."  
  
Malone stared at her, dumbfounded. There were actually tears in his eyes. " Then I guess   
you've made your decision." he said, voice shaking, and then he turned and disappeared into the   
rain.  
Veronica stared at the open door for a moment and then sank to the ground, heaving sobs   
racking her body.  
She was back. Veronica could still feel the tears on her cheeks, and she looked at Ned in   
wonder.  
" What?" he inquired. " What is it?"  
  
" You were there." Veronica informed him, still filled with awe at what she had seen. " And   
I loved you."  
  
  
  
Marguerite walked arm in arm with Challenger through the village commons, revelling in   
his companionship. He was her closest friend and confidant and was almost like a second father   
to her, though she loved her own father too much to really give him any comparisons. Still,   
Challenger had always been there for her, and she trusted him completely.  
" My dear, is something troubling you?" Challenger inquired after a long moment of silence.   
He had been periodically attempting to make conversation with the dark haired beauty, but to no   
avail. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.  
" What makes you think that?" Marguerite returned lightly, trying to avoid the subject.  
Challenger chuckled. " Well, you do have many virtues, my dear, but silence is not one of   
them."  
  
Marguerite could not help but smile in return. " I have a lot weighing on my mind right now,   
Challenger." she admitted. " I still don't know what to do about Phillip. I can feel a rift   
growing between us."  
  
Challenger frowned, and Marguerite immediately felt contrite for her words. Challenger was   
unable to have children, and here she was complaining about a minor problem with her own.   
" Forgive me for burdening you with my problems." she apologized quickly.  
Challenger shook his head. " No, my dear-- it's not trouble at all. It's just that...I can   
feel your pain. You know, Marguerite, I've never pitied myself for not being able to have   
children." He squeezed her arm affectionately. " I feel as if I have a daughter."  
  
Marguerite returned to reality as Warren gently shook her shoulder. " Marguerite," he said   
softly, "Marguerite."  
  
Marguerite rubbed her eyes and yawned a bit. She felt almost as if she had been sleeping,   
but obviously she had continued to move during the vision since she was now standing before a   
massive wall. She turned to Warren wonderingly.  
" That's right." Warren informed her, eyes shining. " We're here." He could see the anxiety   
in her face, and he gently took her hand. " Don't worry. Everything is going to be just fine."  
  
Taking in a deep breath, Marguerite slowly walked forward and passed through the gate.  
There were people inside--bulky masses of people-- and silently, they all turned to stare at   
her and watch as she made her way through the crowd. Then, slowly, one by one, they all got on   
their knees and bowed before her.  
  
  
" So you see," Roxton said after Veronica finished telling about her dream, " fate didn't   
bring the six of us together to be as we were before. Fate brought us back so that we could   
experience the loves that were denied to us in the last life."  
Veronica turned and gave Malone a fleeting smile. " I suppose you're right. No hard   
feelings about before?"  
  
Roxton smiled good naturedly and shrugged. " What's a little slap in the face among friends?"  
  
Challenger cleared his throat. " I'm afraid there's a little flaw in your theory, Roxton.   
It appears that Marguerite has chosen to be with Warren."  
  
The other explorers were silent, and the air was suddenly very tense. All eyes were turned   
to Roxton.  
Roxton shook his head. " No. I don't believe that Marguerite loves that man." *I can't   
believe it*, he added silently to himself.  
" And if she does?" Summerlee asked gently.  
Roxton looked at him grimly. " Then I'll fight for her."  
  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
  
  



	3. Meant To Be

Part 3  
  
Marguerite was instantly aware that someone was watching her. She tensed and turned   
slowly, and her eyes fell upon...Phillip. Her son. She started, and then breathed a sigh of   
relief. " Phillip, you startled me."  
  
Phillip did not return her smile, and merely glared at her coldly in return. " Mother."  
  
Once again, she was pained by the hatred that she felt radiating from him. He had always   
been his father's son, but he had used to hold a place in his heart for his mother, as well.   
That had been before he had seen what he had seen, and now any affection he had felt toward her   
seemed to have vanished. Now, as he glowered at her, he so strongly resembled Warren that it was  
almost frightening, except...Warren had never looked at her like that before.  
" Phillip, we need to talk." Marguerite began, but Phillip held up his hand, cutting her off   
sharply.   
" I really don't think there's anything to discuss." he said, voice hard and chilly, then   
turned and strode away with rapid steps, as though he couldn't wait to get out of her presence.  
Marguerite stirred and awakened, tears gathering in her eyes at the forlorness that she had   
felt in her vision. She could still feel Phillip's wrath and anger kindling against her. He   
hated her. Enough to betray the entire kingdom just to get retribution for whatever she had done.  
Tiredly, she rose to her feet and slipped her bare feet into some warm, fuzzy slippers. She   
had to talk to Warren. There were some question she needed to ask.  
His bedroom was in one adjoining her own. He had subtly suggested that they stay together   
the night before, but she had carefully declined. She wasn't ready for that. Truth be told, she  
wasn't sure that she ever would be. Still, it was kind of nice to know that he was nearby,   
though that sentiment had more to do with the unease at being back in Spheria again than it did   
with being a romantion feeling. She found it hard to believe that she would ever think   
romantically of Warren...at least, not the same way that she had felt about Rox--  
No. She had promised herself that she would never think of that name again. She pushed   
Roxton from her thoughts and instead concentrated on Warren, who was soundly asleep in bed. She   
crept up beside him and gently shook his shoulder. " Warren."  
  
He awoke with a start but immediately relaxed when he realized that it was her. He smiled   
good-naturedly. " You really have to stop doing that to me."  
  
Marguerite smiled in return. " Ruin my fun, why don't you?" She hesitated, pulling at the   
loose strands on his quilt. " I had another dream. About Phillip." She paused, fighting back   
the hurt that welled inside. " Why did he hate me so much?"  
  
Warren sat up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows. " Well, I suppose that he must have   
gradually turned away from you--"  
  
Marguerite shook her head. " No. He used to love me-- of that I'm certain. But something he  
saw upset him, turned him against me." She frowned, struggling to remember, but it was as though   
there was a haze over her mind. " Do you have any idea of what it was?"  
  
Warren paused and chewed thoughtfully on his lip, then sighed and shook his head. " No. I'm   
sorry, Marguerite."   
Marguerite nodded. She had expected as much. Still, it was hard to imagine what she could   
have done that would alienate her from her own son. She looked up to bid goodnight to Warren and  
noticed that his eyes were trained on her nightgown. She had forgotten how flimsy it was.   
Hastily, she rose to her feet. "Yes, well...goodnight."  
  
Warren caught her hand. " Marguerite, wait. You don't have to leave so quickly."  
  
Marguerite withdrew her hand from his own. " Now, Warren, what kind of a man are you? Trying  
to keep a woman from her beauty sleep. You should know better."  
" A man who misses his wife." Warren informed her. " Marguerite, please...I've been waiting   
for seven hundred years."  
  
Marguerite smiled sweetly at him. " Then surely one more night won't matter." She retreated  
back toward her own room. " Good night, Warren."  
  
  
  
Roxton reached out and grabbed Summerlee's elbow, preventing the older man from falling. "Are you all right?"  
  
Summerlee nodded and pushed up his spectacles a bit. " Yes, I'm fine." He blinked his eyes   
and shook his head. " We must be getting closer. I can remember being Marguerite's father...her  
birth, her childhood...she was quite the rambuncous youth."  
  
Roxton smiled at this. " That doesn't come as much of a surprise, now does it?"  
  
Summerlee turned and looked at Roxton apologetically. " I'm sorry, Roxton." Seeing the   
confusion in the younger man's face, he explained, " It was I who arranged for Warren and   
Marguerite to be married."  
Odd, how all of their former lives seemed to be coming back to haunt them. Roxton shook his   
head and clapped Summerlee on the back. " It's all right, Summerlee. You were just looking out   
for Marguerite's best interest, just as you always have."  
  
Summerlee smiled. " I guess that not all emotions were lost over the years, were they?"  
  
" No," Roxton said seriously, remembering how the emotions he had felt for Marguerite seven   
hundred years before nearly mirrored his own now, " not all of them."  
  
If he was too late and he had lost Marguerite forever because of his stupidity...he would   
never forgive himself. Never.  
They rounded the bend, and suddenly, he was greeted by the sight of a large, stone wall. The   
memories came flooding back to him, now. Celebrations that had lasted long into the night.   
Fierce battles in which he had relentlessly defended Marguerite-- his queen-- with his life. He   
could tell that the place was having the same effect on the others. They all stood silently for   
a moment, lost in their memories.  
Roxton cleared his throat and started forward. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.   
The others fell in behind him, silent now as they began to fully comprehend the lives they had   
once lived.  
As they stepped through the gates, the people in the village stopped and faced them. The air  
was silent, tense for one drawn out moment, and then exultant cries filled the air. The villagers  
gathered around the five travellers and began to touch them in awe and wonder, as if they really   
couldn't believe that they were there.  
" Well," Roxton said, a wry smile on his face, " this is what I call a homecoming." He   
turned to scan the crowds, but there was no sign of Marguerite. He realized that she was   
probably in the castle, and he knew that she probably wouldn't be happy to see him, but he had to  
find her.  
" Welcome back, Sir Roxton." one of the peasants said. " We've missed your presence here in   
Spheria."  
  
The others, similarly, were receiving such calls. Roxton turned to the peasant who had   
addressed him. " Um...thank you. Now, could someone please take us to Marg...uh, to the queen?"  
" Of course." the peasant returned. " I'll lead the way."  
Wordlessly, the five explorers  
made their way through the crowd and followed after him.  
  
  
Marguerite carefully admired the chrystal vase that had been flawlessly preserved for   
over a thousand years. It was beautifully crafted, and it had been a good while since she had   
seen anything so exquisite.  
" Careful with that, my dear." Warren cautioned her with a smile on his face. " That vase is  
almost as valuable as you are."  
  
Marguerite raised an exaggeratedly indignant eyebrow. " Pardon me?"  
  
Warren grinned. " I said almost."  
  
Marguerite returned the smile and started to replace the vase on the mantle. " Yes, well...  
you'd be hard pressed to get me to argue that valuable artifacts aren't more important than human  
lives."  
  
" Yes, you certainly would." Roxton agreed softly from the doorway.  
Marguerite stared at him in shock; without thinking, her fingers slipped and the vase slipped  
from her hands and crashed to the ground, shattering into a million pieces.  
Instinctively, she fell to the ground and began to try to gather up the shards. " Clumsy me.  
You know how slippery chrystal can be."  
  
Warren pulled at her arm. " Dearest, don't worry about it. Someone else will take care of   
it."  
  
Embarrassed by her obvious discomfort, Marguerite rose hurriedly to her feet. " Right.   
Because I'm the queen. Queen Marguerite."  
Roxton crossed the room over to her. " Marguerite, we need to talk--"  
  
With one swift motion, Marguerite slapped him across the face. Hard. Malone looked at the   
older man incredulously. " What is that now, Roxton? Three times in two days?"  
  
Roxton looked at Marguerite in surprise, though he couldn't really blame her for her reaction.   
" Well, I suppose I deserved that."  
" That and much more." Marguerite said, glaring at him. " I have to admit, Roxton-- I never   
thought I'd see you again." She glared at Veronica. " I was sure you'd be too busy with your   
little blonde tramp to even notice I was gone."  
  
Veronica took a step toward her. " Marguerite, please listen to us--"  
  
Marguerite reared back and decked the younger woman with full force. Veronica tumbled   
backward, careening into Malone, who managed to catch her arm and steady her. Veronica could   
taste the blood on her tongue and looked up at Marguerite in shock.  
" Anyone else want to try their luck?" Marguerite snapped, her voice challenging anyone to   
do just that.  
" Marguerite, please," Summerlee spoke up, his voice pleading, " let them talk to you."  
  
Marguerite hesitated, torn by her pride and her love for this kind, sweet man. Summerlee   
won. " Fine. Would you all give us a moment?"   
Summerlee, Challenger, and Malone obediently exited, and Warren lingered long enough to   
inform Marguerite, " I'll be right outside if you need me."  
  
Roxton waited until Warren had left and then turned to Veronica. " I'd like to talk to   
Marguerite alone for a moment, if you don't mind."  
  
" I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Roxton." Veronica said. But, seeing the determination   
in his eyes, she sighed and turned to exit. " Call me if you need back-up." she said, only half-  
joking. She paused at the doorway and swallowed. " I'm sorry, Marguerite."  
  
" Spare me." Marguerite returned coldly. She waited until the door was shut and then turned   
her wrath upon Roxton. " So...when is the wedding date set for? I trust that I'll receive an   
invitation."  
  
" Marguerite," Roxton began, avancing toward her. She backed away from him. " Would you   
please listen to me?"  
  
Marguerite folded her arms. " Talk all you want, Roxton. I'm listening. But don't expect   
me to make you feel better about betraying me."  
  
" You're right, Marguerite," Roxton informed her, meaning every word, " and I'm sorry for   
hurting you. I can only imagine what you must have been feeling--"  
  
Marguerite was absolutely livid. " You have no idea how I felt, Roxton. To see you all   
tangled up in that...jungle trash! I trusted you! I loved--" She stopped, battling back the   
tears of fury and pain that stung her eyes. " Well, I'll never make that mistake again."  
  
Roxton furrowed his brow. " What--trusting me or loving me?"  
  
" Either/or." Marguerite said with a shrug. " Take your pick." She tossed her head defiantly.   
" Well, at least you weren't the only one who had a little fun."  
  
She wanted to hurt him, bad, as badly as he had hurt her. She wanted to witness the look on   
his face as his heart shattered into a million pieces, just as the vase had done only moments   
before. Just as her heart had done when she had seen Roxton kissing Veronica.  
Roxton paled and stared at her. " What do you mean?" He swallowed heavily, dreading the   
inevitable question that he needed to ask. " Did you...sleep with him?"  
Marguerite met his gaze coldly. " Yes." she lied. And she got what she wanted. Roxton   
looked physically ill. His eyes were filled with angruish...and tears. It was something that   
she should have relished. But she didn't feel good. She felt horrible. And suddenly,   
Marguerite wanted nothing more than to take it all back.  
Roxton's eyes clouded over. He looked beyond furious, like he was going to hit someone. She  
half expected him to hit her, and a part of her wouldn't have blamed him for it. Instead, he   
overturned a nearby table, sending its contents crashing to the floor. Marguerite flinched and   
watched as Roxton proceeded to overturn anything and everything that he could in the room.  
Marguerite stared at him in shock; she certainly hadn't expected this. Anger she could   
handle. Sorrow she could handle. But this senseless, chaotic destruction...this blind fury that   
had taken over him...it frightened her beyond what she had ever imagined. For the first time in   
her life, she was afraid of Roxton.   
" Stop it, Roxton!" she pleaded, grabbing his arm in an attempt to restrain him. " Stop it!"  
Roxton's chest was heaving and he was obviously still upset. But the blind anger that had   
overcome him had passed, and now he radiated anguish as he inquired, " How could you?"  
  
There were tears streaming down Marguerite's face. " I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."   
It wasn't like her to just apologize like this, but she was willing to do anything to take that   
agony away from him. "I was lying, John. I swear. I just wanted to hurt you like you hurt me..."  
  
And now there were tears on his own hard, tan face as well. He pulled Marguerite to him and   
crushed his lips against her own, fiercely, passionately, combining all of his angst and love and  
pain into one beautiful, powerful kiss. Marguerite responded to him immediately, her hands   
running wildly through his short, dark hair. His hands were like steel against her body, and she   
felt herself shivering despite the sudden heat of the room.  
And suddenly, though she struggled with all of her might to stay where she was, she felt her   
mind slipping once again to seven hundred years before. She and Roxton were sharing a similar   
kiss of the same passion and intensity.  
To her horror, she saw Phillip standing in the doorway of the stables. His eyes widened as   
he saw them, and in that instant, she saw his whole world shatter. Marguerite pulled back in   
surprise, her eyes filled with horror.  
" Phillip, wait!" she called. But he didn't stop-- he turned and ran, but not before she   
saw the look in his eyes.  
Complete and utter hatred.  
She was back in the present again, still tangled in Roxton, and with great effort, she   
managed to pull away from him. " We've done this before."  
Roxton's eyes widened. " You saw us together in the stables?"  
  
Marguerite looked at him grimly. " I wasn't the only one. Phillip walked in on us. That was  
why he hated me. That was why he wanted to destroy me."  
  
Roxton looked at her with compassion, feeling her grief for the son she had lost so long   
before. " I'm sorry, Marguerite."  
Marguerite looked up at him and shook her head. " I'm not. You were the best thing that   
ever happened to me, John Roxton-- then and now." Her lips were still sore from the first kiss   
and would probably be swollen in the morning, but she found herself longing for his lips to be   
upon hers once more. As if he could hear her thoughts, Roxton slowly lowered his mouth on top of   
hers. They were lost in each other for one long, blissful moment.  
Until they heard the click of the gun.  
" Well, well, well." a voice sneered from across the room. " It looks as though some things   
never change-- even after seven hundred years."  
  
Marguerite looked up and her eyes widened in terror. " Phillip?"  
  
" What?" Phillip said with a mocking grin. " You didn't think you were the only one who   
could reincarnate themselves, did you?"  
  
Roxton started toward him, and Phillip fired off a shot. The bullet grazed over the top of   
his skull, not low enough to draw blood, but close enough to knock him out with its force.   
Marguerite screamed as he slumped to the ground. " Roxton!"  
  
Phillip grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her to him, pressing the gun to the small of her   
back. "Now don't do anything stupid. I'd hate to have to shoot you before I kill you."  
  
Marguerite stared, panicked at the sight of Roxton's motionless form. " Is he...dead?"  
  
" Don't worry," Phillip snapped, pushing her toward the back door, " your man-slut is still   
alive...for now. I'll come back for him later. But it's you I want to kill now. And this time,   
I won't fail."  
  
  
Warren leaned up against the wall next to Veronica, giving her a tired smile. " They've   
been in there an awfully long time." he noted.  
" Yes, they have." Veronica agreed. Judging by the racket that had gone on earlire, they   
were either killing each other or were having one heck of a makeup scene. Warren had wanted to   
go in there to see what was going on when the crashing began, but Veronica had intervened.   
Either way, they weren't going to want anyone to interrupt.  
Warren nodded, preoccupied by his own thoughts for a moment. " It's good that you and Roxton  
have found each other again. You always made such a good couple."  
  
*If only you knew*, Veronica thought wryly.  
" Actually, Roxton and I have decided that we're better off as friends." Veronica informed   
him.  
Warren frowned and studied her. " It's because he's in love with Marguerite, isn't it?"  
" Among other things." Veronica admitted.  
Warren shook his head. " If only Roxton would realize that this emotion he thinks he feels   
is only temporary. It's completely fake. The sooner he gets that through his head, the better."  
Veronica stiffened at the words. This was too much. " Roxton's feelings aren't temporary,   
and they certainly aren't fake. They're just as real as yours are, if not more so. And they   
have been for the last seven hundred years."  
  
Warren looked at her dubiously. " What are you talking about?"  
  
" Marguerite may have had feelings for you, and may still for all I know. But seven hundred   
yeras ago, during your so-called 'perfect marriage', she was really in love with Roxton. And   
there's little doubt in my mind that she still is." Veronica informed him, voice tight.  
Warren looked shocked. " No-- I don't believe you."  
  
" Oh, come on, Warren." Veronica snapped. " Don't you find it just a little strange that   
Roxton and Marguerite found each other two years ago while you were still on the other side of   
the globe?"  
Warren didn't reply, just stared straight ahead dejectedly.  
Veronica felt a wave of pity rush over her. He shouldn't have found out like that. Still, it  
was good that he finally knew. She was about to offer some words of solace when a loud crack   
rang through the air. "Was that a gunshot?"  
  
" Marguerite!" Warren cried, attempting to open the door. It wouldn't budge. " Someone's   
locked it from the inside!"  
  
" Stand back." Veronica instructed, then sent a solid kick barreling against the door,   
splintering the wood. She regained her balance and then tried again twice more. The door gave   
way and Warren rushed inside.  
Roxton was slumped in the corner, motionless, and Marguerite was quite noticeably absent.   
The room was a mess.  
" We heard the shots." Malone called, rushing into the room. He stopped and stared in wonder  
at the scene before him. " Oh my gosh-- she's killed him!"  
  
" No," Veronica shouted in return from Roxton's side, " he's just unconscious. But he's going  
to have one nasty bruise come tomorrow."  
  
Warren grabbed Roxton by the collar of his shirt and began to shake him. " Roxton, wake up!   
Where's Marguerite?"  
  
Roxton stirred and moaned. " He has her."  
  
Summerlee exchanged a worried glance with Challenger. " Who has her, my boy?"  
  
Warren straightened up a bit, a sunken expression on his face. " Phillip."  
  
  
  
When Marguerite next awoke, she was tied to a cold, hard, concrete slab. The ropes that   
bound her dug painfully into her flesh, but even more disturbing was the sight of Phillip   
towering above her, blood smeared over his face. She felt a wave of panic wash over her.   
Was that her blood?  
" Phillip," Marguerite moaned, knowing that it was probably useless to try and reason with   
him but needing to try, anyway, " why? Wasn't one death enough?"  
" Obviously not enough for you." Phillip returned, his face livid. " It's been seven hundred  
years-- seven hundred years-- and still you run back to that hunting harlot." He shook his head.   
" Why couldn't you have just stayed with my father? In this life or the last one? I would have   
left you alone, then. I would have even loved you. But for you to cheat on him...twice!!...for   
you to scourge his honor n such a manner is simply unforgivable."  
  
" I'm sorry." Marguerite said, and she meant it. She had never intended to hurt Phillip,   
or anyone for that matter. She had only wanted to be with Roxton. " What are you going to do   
to me?"  
  
" I'm performing a spell that will forever banish your soul to Hell." Phillip informed her.   
" And this time, you won't ever be able to come back to make the same mistake."  
  
Marguerite laughed wryly. " Yes, well...I always suspected I'd be going to that great   
furnace in the sky." A sudden thought struck her. " What about Roxton? What are you going to do   
to him?"  
  
" The same." Phillip replied, smiling wickedly at her. " That way you two can finally be   
together forever...an eternity in Hell. It's fitting, don't you think?"  
  
Marguerite shook her head. " No! Do what you want to me-- Heaven knows, I deserve it--   
but leave Roxton out of it. He's a good person...much better than I am, and--"  
  
Phillip spit on her, hitting her on the forehead. A trail of saliva oozed down one cheek.   
" You sicken me." he informed her, then raised a glinting dagger above his head. " But not for   
much longer. This is for you, Father."  
With one quick swoop, he swung the dagger downward. Marguerite screamed.   
Phillip's arm was suddenly blocked as a familiar voice quipped, " Not so fast."  
  
Marguerite gave a relieved smile. " Roxton, thank goodness! Took you long enough, don't you  
think?"  
  
Roxton smiled good-naturedly. " Yes, but I brought the cavalry."  
  
There was a flash of metal and then Veronica was behind Phillip, holding a blade to his   
throat. " Drop the knife."  
Phillip obediently released the dagger. It clattered to the ground, and Marguerite breathed   
a sigh of relief. " Veronica, I have never been so happy to see you in my life."  
Veronica gave her a wry smile. " I guess that means you forgive me?"  
" Of course." Marguerite said, feeling rather generous after being saved from death's grip   
once again. " Just don't expect me to be so lenient next time."  
  
Veronica rubbed her jaw sorely. " That was lenient? I'd hate to see what happened if you   
really got angry."  
  
Summerlee rushed over to the table. " Thank goodness you're safe, Marguerite. You had us all   
worried." He and Challenger and Malone began to unfasten the ropes that bound her to the table.  
Roxton tenderly traced the curve of her face. " Are you all right, Marguerite?"  
  
Marguerite reached up and felt the wound on top of his head. " I could ask you the same   
question, Lord Roxton."  
  
Veronica stiffened and glanced around warily. " Where's Warren?"  
  
Roughly, Phillip back-handed her in the face. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground.   
"Veronica!"   
Malone cried and rushed over to her.  
Phillip pulled another knife that had been concealed in his sleeve and raised it over his   
head. " Good-bye, Mother." he said coldly, triumphantly, then thrust the blade downward.  
There was a sickening thud and Phillip gasped, then looked down to the tip of a sword that   
was now protruding through his chest. Blood was already beginning to seep around the wound. He   
turned slowly, painfully, to face his attacker.  
It was Warren.  
" Father?" he gasped, eyes filled with dismay and hurt, and then he slumped to the ground,   
dead.  
  
  
" Well, are we sure we aren't forgetting anything?" Challenger inquired as the group   
prepared to depart shortly thereafter.  
" Just one thing." Marguerite said, then stepped forward to kiss Warren on the cheek.   
" Thank you...for everything."  
Warren forced a smile, though it was obvious that it pained him to see her go. " Yes, well...  
take good care of her, Lord Roxton. If I hear that you've been mistreating her, I'll send the   
entire Royal Spherian Army after you."  
  
Roxton smiled tightly. " I'll remember that." He still didn't like the guy, and probably   
never would, but he wasn't too bad. After all, he cared for Marguerite, and that at least showed   
that he had good taste.  
" I'm still not sure I understand." Malone spoke up. " I thought it was Marguerite's destiny  
to rule Spheria."  
  
" Wrong." Marguerite informed him. " It was my destiny to bring peace to Spheria. And I am   
by leaving Warren behind to rule the kingdom." She gave him a mockingly menacing glare. " So you  
better take good care of it or you'll only wish I had sent the Royal Army after you."  
  
Warren's smile was genuine this time. " You know, I actually believe that."  
  
They set off shortly afterward, each eager to return home. They had only gotten so far when   
Marguerite was suddenly overcome by another vision. They were all standing in a circle-- Warren,  
Marguerite, Roxton, Veronica, Challenger, and Summerlee-- and they were all holding hands tightly  
as near chaos seemed to reign in the world outside of the small room they were clustered in.  
" Everyone, hold your hands tight and think of the people that you love." Challenger   
instructed. Across the circle from each other, Marguerite and Roxton locked gazes, even as their  
respective spouses gripped their hands more tightly. " Through this power of love, may our souls   
stay connected to those we cherish, so that no matter how many years pass, our spirits may travel  
together."  
  
Silently, peacefully, Marguerite returned to the present. It all made sense, now.   
Challenger's spell had bound them all by love. Since she had loved Summerlee and Challenger as   
fathers, and they had similarly loved her as a daughter, their souls had been kept together. And  
Veronica, torn by her love for her husband and her love for Malone, had inadvertantly but   
blissfully kept all three of them together. And since Marguerite and Roxton had loved each other,   
they had stayed together and the circle of their make-shift family was complete.   
Warren was the odd card out, since obviously fate had a different plan in store for him.   
Marguerite was going to miss him. A part of her would always love Warren, but her destiny lied   
elsewhere.  
Silently, she reached out and took Roxton's hand, entertwining his fingers with her own. He   
smiled in return-- she was in his blood, after all, and had been for the last seven hundred years--   
and gently pressed his lips to the back of her palm.  
  
  
The End 


End file.
